


Home Is Where the Hart Is

by whetherwoman



Category: A Girl of the Limberlost - Gene Stratton-Porter
Genre: 19th century angst is the best angst, F/M, Post-Canon, all the feels, kissing is embarassing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 01:05:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whetherwoman/pseuds/whetherwoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edith has changed. Has Edith's relationship with Hart changed?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Is Where the Hart Is

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sophia_sol](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophia_sol/gifts).



> Thank you to my awesome beta! Any remaining errors are completely my own fault.

Hart found Edith in the garden. The Carrs’ fine house boasted one of the most well-kept gardens in the city, a haven of shaded benches on the hottest summer days. Those who loved the Limberlost might find little to admire in the carefully manicured hedges and neatly pruned shrubs—but it is true that the Carr residence had footmen carrying ices always near to hand, which it must be admitted is an advantage the Limberlost lacked.

It was in this urban haven that Hart Henderson found Edith Carr quite alone one hot afternoon. He paused to admire the picture she made, her shining dark hair and white dress, cut in the latest fashion, standing out against the leaves. Her face was pensive, beautiful in repose. She had not seen him yet.

"Edith," he called softly as he approached.

She started and turned towards him. “Hart!” She held out her hands to him. “I thought you weren’t back until tomorrow!”

Hart took her hands and kissed them, seating himself next to her. “I couldn’t stay away. I was done with Los Angeles and it was done with me. My sister was grateful to have me there, of course, to help deal with her poor husband’s estate. She was as kind as could be, but I could tell when I had worn out my welcome. And once I decided to come home, well, nothing could stop me coming as quickly as possible.”

“You must have moved heaven and earth,” Edith smiled. “Did you even stop to eat or sleep? Let’s go in, you must want a drink.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Hart said. “Your face is all the refreshment I could need.”

Edith flushed prettily, lowering her eyes. But her hands held tight to Hart’s, and they sat in comfortable silence for a minute.

“I have to admit,” Hart said hesitantly, “I thought you might be upset with me.”

Edith bit her lip and looked away. “Did you think so?”

“You had every right,” Hart said. “I missed our engagement party. I can’t say how sorry I am. I know it must have been dreadful for you to have to cancel it.”

“You had the best reason in the world,” Edith said. “Your sister needed you. You had to go and be with her, I understand that.”

“Yet you won’t look at me,” Hart said softly. It was true: Edith was still looking steadfastly at the ground.

Edith sighed. "I ought to be angry," she said. "I used to be angry over much smaller things than this. Oh, I never really meant it, but I would throw a little fit to keep things interesting. Now..." She lifted luminous eyes to Hart. "Hart, somehow I find I just can't."

Hart carefully gathered her hands in his. “I deserve it, dearest, I never should have gone—I should have known better, should have known it would take too long—”

“You don’t understand!” Edith drew her hands away from him. “It’s so different from the way I’ve always been. If only you were Phillip, this would be so much easier for me!”

Hart turned white.

“Oh no,” Edith said. “No, Hart, that’s not what I meant at all.”

“It’s true,” Hart said. “I know I am second best for you. Phillip Ammon out-measures me in every respect. While he has worked hard to earn the respect of others and his place in the world, I have wasted some of the best years my life. And you loved Phillip for so many years, Edith. I am trying—you must know I’m trying—I want to be the kind of man you deserve. But I know you don’t, you can’t feel for me as you did for him.”

“No—Hart—stop,” Edith begged, almost in tears. “That’s not true at all! I misspoke, before, I didn’t mean that at all. I haven’t been able to tell you—I haven’t had the words to tell you what you mean to me. But please don’t think that because I can’t say it, I don’t feel it.”

“I don’t mind, most of the time,” Hart said. “I know I am the winner in the end—I will have your hand, if not your heart.”

Edith stood, agitation sending a flush to her face. “You don’t understand. I hardly understand myself—I feel I am only beginning to understand my own mind. When I was with Phillip, I was always manufacturing some emotion or other. I was angry or pleased or amused to make him react, to make him dance like a puppet on my string! Hart, I have been so weak, so small, but it was the only way I knew to be with Phillip. It was the only way I knew how to be at all! But never with you—that is what I have begun to realize while you were away. I simply don’t know how to be anything but honest with you. It is new for me—it is difficult, Hart, it is so difficult sometimes. I don’t know what I’m doing or how to show you how I feel. And honestly, Hart—” She faltered, her eyes lowering.

“Yes?” Hart said tenderly, pulling her hands back into his. “You know you can tell me anything, Edith.”

Edith let him take her hands, but her eyes stayed focused on the ground. “I’m not upset with you,” she said softly, “because I want your respect and your admiration so very badly. I sometimes think about throwing some small fit, and then I imagine your face and I—I can’t.”

Hart squeezed her hands silently, but she refused to look up. “Thank you,” he said quietly, matching her tone. “Thank you, Edith. That’s as much as I hoped to ever have. Knowing you feel that way means the world to me.”

“Now I am upset!” Edith cried, finally lifting her eyes. “You will force me to be completely shameless, Hart. I would not have promised to marry you if you were second best in my eyes—if I did not know with my whole being that you were the man for me. You must believe me, what I feel for you is—is love!” With that she stepped forward and pressed her lips to Hart’s, wrapping her arms around his neck.

For a heavenly instant Hart couldn’t move, could hardly breathe. Then she pulled back, her usually fine complexion lost under a bright red flush, her usually smooth hair fly-away and tousled.

Hart thought she had never looked so lovely.


End file.
